


Hardware

by elev



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/F, Forced Orgasm, Fucking Machines, Hacking, Knifeplay, Nipple Clamps, Power Play, Rope Bondage, Safeword Use, Safewords, Smut, Sybian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4472378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elev/pseuds/elev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Don't worry, John,” comes Shaw's voice. “She gets like that sometimes. Usually, it means she's deprived.”<br/>“Sleep deprived?” John asks, looking at Elizabeth with concern.<br/>“Sure,” Shaw says, “if by 'sleep' you mean 'sex'.”</p><p>Shaw buys Elizabeth a very expensive sex machine. Contains consensual BDSM and bondage. Written for Day 5 (sex machines) of the Oil Refinery smutfest. Part of my Protocols universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hardware

#####

“Ellie,” John Reese says, “you should eat a Snickers.”

The frizzy-haired young woman looks away from the laptop screen just long enough to glare at John, but her fingers still tap away at the keyboard. “What's _that_ supposed to mean?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing. She frowns.

“Oh, you know,” John says innocently, looking around the empty parking lot. So far, nobody's noticed the duo in the car, which is a good thing considering that they're pointing a compact, long-range Yagi wifi antenna at their latest Number's house in hopes of cracking into her wireless network. It's not exactly subtle. Fortunately, they're nearly a half-kilometer away, parked in an abandoned lot. Nobody else is around. “You've been kind of grumpy today.”

“ _Grumpy_?” Elizabeth fumes.

“Yeah,” John says. “Like right now. And when I was helping you set up the antenna.”

“You tried jamming a USB cable into the HDMI port. The _HDMI_ port, John!” She points at the side of her laptop. “ _That_ one is USB. HDMI has the angled notches.”

“An honest mistake,” he says. “And they're kinda similar from where I'm sitting.”

“...I guess so,” she admits. She brushes a strand of hair away from her freckled face and returns her attention to the computer.

“And what about when I picked you up?” John asks. “What was that about?”

“You told me I was dressed like a schoolgirl and called me Sailor Elizabeth.” John worries that she's going to put her fingers right through the keyboard, what with how hard she's typing.

“Well, in my defense, you do look more like a schoolgirl today. It's the knee socks and shiny shoes.” (Elizabeth glowers.) “But you don't usually respond to a little teasing as if I've insulted your mother.”

“If I responded like you'd insulted my mother, you'd be nursing a black eye,” Elizabeth grumbles. “Now hush up, make sure that antenna doesn't move, and let me concentrate on figuring out the best attack against Jasmine's shitty router.”

“Just want to make sure everything's all right,” John says lightly.

“Everything's fine,” Elizabeth says dismissively. “Okay?”

“Okay,” John says.

His earpiece clicks.

“Don't worry, John,” comes Shaw's voice. “She gets like that sometimes. Usually, it means she's deprived.”

Elizabeth scowls but says nothing. She focuses intently on the laptop screen, tracing a line of terminal output with her finger.

“Sleep deprived?” John asks, looking at Elizabeth with concern.

“Sure,” Shaw says, “if by 'sleep' you mean 'sex'.”

“ _Shaw!_ ” Elizabeth complains. Her fingers falter. “Way to be distracting.”

“What, it's true,” Shaw says. “You get _really_ grumpy when we have these long series of cases and barely any time to fuck in the evenings. It's been about six days since we've had a right and proper fuckathon.”

John wonders if Finch is listening in. If he is, John imagines he's wearing a frown of distaste.

“Yeah, well,” Elizabeth says, “you get kinda _violent_ when I don't bone you for awhile. So. Pot calling kettle.”

“Not arguing,” Shaw says. “You know I gotta blow off my urges one way or another.”

“Hmm,” John muses. “All this time, all Finch and I had to do to get you to stop shooting people was to get in your pants?”

“Dream on, lover boy,” Shaw drawls.

“Yeah, Shaw belongs to _me_ ,” Elizabeth says, pointing her thumb at her chest. “And I don't share with guys that can't differentiate between common peripheral ports.”

“Anyway,” Shaw says, “don't worry about Elizabeth. Soon as we get a break, I'm going to fuck her into next week with this new, heh, _toy_ I just got. I'll fuck her so hard, she won't be grumpy again for _ages_.”

John is pretty sure Finch has hung up by now. In the passenger's seat, Elizabeth perks up. “Oh?” she says, grinning. “New toy? What new toy?”

“The one I just ordered online while I was waiting for McGarrett to do something besides stare at his fucking computer all day. Rush order. It'll be here tomorrow.”

“What kind of toy is it?” Elizabeth asks, grinning coyly.

“A good one,” Shaw says mysteriously.

“Come on,” Elizabeth says. “I need a little more detail than _that_.”

“Guaranteed to make you cum whether you want to or not,” Shaw purrs, placing an emphasis on _want to or not_. Especially the _not_.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Elizabeth asks. Her cheeks look a little rosier than they had been a few minutes ago.

“Oh, it is _so_ both,” Shaw says. Elizabeth's grin widens.

“So what is it?” Elizabeth asks. “Another wireless prototype from Alice's Garden?”

“Nope. Although I hear one of those will be in the mail soon. Don't ever say I don't spoil you rotten.”

“To the core,” Elizabeth agrees. She hits a few more keys and leans back in the seat as a progress bar crawls across the screen. “Hmm. A fancy wand attachment?”

“Nope. Way better.”

“Uh—an eroscillator?”

“No, but you know, now that you mention it, I've always wanted to try one of those—” John hears a keyboard clacking. “Ordered. I'll do standard shipping on that one. Gotta pinch pennies. Finch might whine when he sees the credit card bill for the other toy.”

“Expensive, huh? Gold plated vibrator?”

“That's a thing?” More keyboard clacking. “Huh. Wow. It is.”

“Guessing is taking too long,” Elizabeth says. “Maybe you should just tell me what you're going to do with whatever it is.” She's definitely blushing now. Her finger taps the edge of the laptop. “Start with the part where you're about to strip my clothes off and tie me to the bed.”

“Well,” Shaw says, “first, it's too awkward to use on a bed, but you'd definitely need to be naked, so depending on the mood, I could remove your clothing one piece at a time, all romantic-like, or—”

“Uh, Shaw,” John starts, but Elizabeth cuts him off.

“Hell no,” she says. “I'm horny as _fuck_ ; you need to get my clothes off as fast as humanly possible.”

“In that case,” Shaw says, “you'd want to hold _very_ still. Because I'd be using my knife, see. I'd pin you against the wall. You'd feel the cold kiss of the blade under your neck as I explain just how wickedly _sharp_ it is. Then you'd feel it travel down your chest as my knife parts the fabric of your shirt and slides along your delicate, _sensitive_ skin until I reach your skirt, and then I'd slice away your panties and skirt—”

“Shaw—” John tries.

Elizabeth makes an inappropriately loud moan and squeezes her legs together.

“—and after I've cut away every square inch of fabric separating you from me, I'd make you kneel in front of me like the dirty little schoolgirl you are, and I'd pull your arms behind your back, tying them tight—”

“ _Shaw_ ,” John says more forcibly, “you _are_ keeping an eye on McGarrett, right?”

A pause.

“Of course I am,” she says calmly. “Er, I gotta run. We'll continue this later, Elizabeth.”

“No, wait!” Elizabeth says. There's no response. “ _Dammit_ ,” she swears. The look she gives John is downright scathing. “What the _fuck_. She just had to get me wound up! _Ugh_!”

“Maybe you should focus on whatever that dialog box is saying,” John suggests, pointing at the laptop.

“Oh!” Elizabeth says. She peers at the screen. “Looks like we're in.” She blinks and looks sheepishly at John. “Uh, what kind of files is Finch looking for again?”

There's a click and Finch's voice sounds in their ears.

“Anything related to DynaMagic Enterprises,” he says. “I've sent you several search regexes that might be of use. And might I add, Miss Ruben—I provided you and Miss Shaw with a private line _expressly_ for the sort of ...conversation...you were just partaking in.”

“Right. Say, Finch—you can access Shaw's credit card history, right?”

There's another click, and Finch hangs up.

“Drat,” Elizabeth says, sighing. “It was worth a try...”

“How about we focus on the computer?” John says.

“Right.” Elizabeth cracks her knuckles. “Let's see what we can dig up for Finch...”

#####

It turns out that the jealous wife of a DynaMagic Enterprises bigwig is trying to knock off their Number, who made the mistake of being attractive, female, and alive in the presence of the bigwig and the wife. _Trying_ being the operative word, because John intercepts her hitman and “convinces” him to flip on her. Finch digs up a few emails off the company's server, sends Elizabeth a half-dozen files to plant on the hideous woman's computer and phone, and shortly after, the police receive an anonymous tip. Combined with the confession of the hitman, it's more than enough to get the wife arrested within hours. It all wraps up rather nicely.

By the time John and Elizabeth finish with the case, it's 11PM. Elizabeth is wobbling on her feet—what with the constant parade of Numbers lately, she's been skimping on sleep, and it's catching up to her. John drives her to her apartment. She has just enough energy to make it to her bed before she collapses into a deep sleep.

She's woken by a phone call. Her fingers scrabble for the cell phone on the nightstand.

“Whozit?” she mumbles into the phone.

There's a pause, and Shaw says, “Sorry, I didn't know you were still sleeping.”

“Timezit?” Elizabeth asks.

“About one o'clock.”

“Whaaaa?” She forces her eyes open. When they finally focus on the phone's clock, it corroborates with Shaw's story. “Ugh,” she groans. “Slept through m'alarm.”

“No, Finch disabled it for me,” Shaw says.

“He hacked my alarm app?” she asks blearily.

“Yeah, I had him do it. We don't have any Numbers today, so I figured you'd want to sleep in.”

“Aww, thanks,” she says. She sits up in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. “So, uh, what's up?”

“It's here,” Shaw says.

“What's here?”

“The thing.”

“What thing? I'm not awake yet.”

“The sexy thing that's going to make you cum over and over again,” Shaw says casually, and Elizabeth's eyes fly open.

“Ohhh,” she says, smiling broadly. Suddenly, she's feeling wide awake. “ _That_ thing.”

“Yep,” Shaw says. “So...when do you think you can be at the 11th Street loft?”

“I'll be there in 45 minutes,” Elizabeth promises. “See you then.”

She goes through her morning routine at top speed. Within minutes, she's eaten breakfast, taken a brief shower, dressed, and applied the bare minimum amount of makeup. She spends as little time as possible on getting dressed, taking only as long as necessary to be presentable. She picks out a plain blue skirt and a white blouse, neither of which she cares about—her clothes have a nasty habit of not surviving their encounters with Shaw...

She shows up at the loft right on time. Shaw meets her in the entryway. She's wearing a black tank top and gray cotton shorts, revealing muscular, shapely arms and legs. The door clicks shut behind Elizabeth and that's Shaw's cue. A split-second later, Shaw has her jammed up against the wall, her fingers entwined in Elizabeth's hair as they kiss.

“I've been waiting all fucking week,” Elizabeth breathes as Shaw's lips make their way along Elizabeth's neck. Shaw's fingers find their way beneath her skirt and brush against the damp fabric of her panties.

“Wow, wet already?” Shaw says. “We haven't even gotten started.”

“Been thinking about the thing all the way over,” Elizabeth says.

“You won't have to wonder much longer,” Shaw says. There's a metallic click, and suddenly Elizabeth feels something icy cold beneath her chin. She stills, gasping.

“Don't move,” Shaw says. Her glinting eyes are very, very dark. She moves the knife downward, dragging the tip along Elizabeth's neck and shoulder, just hard enough to scratch but not to draw blood; to Elizabeth, the knife's path is a tingling, stinging line.

“About that conversation we were having yesterday,” Shaw says. “Still okay with that?”

“Cut them off,” Elizabeth whispers. She shivers. Shaw grins and drags the knife down to Elizabeth's collarbone. “This is a nice knife,” she says. “One of my favorites. _Veeeery_ sharp. It can cut through just about anything.” Elizabeth draws in a shaky breath as the knife slices through the blouse with a quiet _rip_. “I bought it just for you.” Within seconds, the blouse is hanging loosely off Elizabeth's shoulders. Another few seconds, and the knife cuts right through the straps on her bra.

“It's super effective,” Elizabeth quips breathlessly.

“Sometimes I forget what a nerd you are,” Shaw says, the corner of her mouth quirking up. The knife travels further downward until it intersects Elizabeth's skirt. Within seconds, the skirt is pooled around Elizabeth's ankles.

Shaw takes her time cutting away Elizabeth panties. She peels them away slowly, agonizingly slowly.

“You're _really_ wet,” Shaw says. Her breath tickles Elizabeth's pussy. Elizabeth's breathing quickens and her fingers twitch. “But I'll make you wait just a liiiitle bit longer.”

“Tease,” Elizabeth bites out.

Shaw sets the knife on a nearby cabinet and leans in to plant a kiss along the knife's path on Elizabeth's shoulder. “Get rid of that mess and come with me,” she commands. “I finished putting the thing together a few minutes before you got here.”

“...putting it together?” Elizabeth says in wonderment as she kicks off her shoes. She follows Shaw across the living room and down the short hallway to the bedroom door. “What the heck _is_ this thing?”

“You'll see,” Shaw says. “I can't wait to see you on it.” She pushes the bedroom door open and Elizabeth follows her inside.

“There it is,” Shaw says. Elizabeth stares.

“No fucking _way_ ,” she says, her face breaking into a grin. “You bought a _Sybian_.”

The device in question sits in the middle of the bedroom on several large maroon towels. It's an ominous black half-cylinder, about a foot and a half tall and wide and several feet long, its flat side to the ground. A small control panel is built into the front and two cords trail from it, one leading to a power outlet and the other to a remote control. But the most eye-catching part of the device is the dildo on top, several inches long, with a base that flares out into a ridge lined with tiny bumps.

Elizabeth circles the device, admiring it from every angle.

“Like it?” Shaw asks.

“I've heard of these,” Elizabeth says. “I've heard they're _really_ awesome. But I never wanted to spend a thousand bucks on one to find out.”

“Good thing I like abusing Finch's credit card,” Shaw says.

“So what's the plan?” Elizabeth says, staring at the Sybian with hungry eyes.

“Well,” Shaw says, and her smile is downright devious. “I've skimmed—heh—a few videos of people using it, and I've noticed they all seem to have trouble staying on it for very long.” She motions to a black duffle bag on the ground near the device. “So I, uh, brought some rope and stuff to help with that.”

Elizabeth feels a pulse of excitement between her legs when she hears that.

“Wanna try it?” Shaw asks.

“Fuck yes,” Elizabeth breathes.

“Okay,” Shaw says. “Kneel.” The steel in her voice makes Elizabeth's knees quake and moments later they meet the carpet near the device. “Stay there,” Shaw says, and she goes over to the Sybian. Elizabeth watches as she takes a bottle of lube out of the bag and applies it to the dildo until it's glistening. Then she motions for Elizabeth.

“Have a seat,” she says.

Elizabeth trembles with anticipation. She straddles the device like a saddle, resting her knees and lower legs on the towels on either side of it, and slowly, carefully, she eases herself downward. The dildo is thick, but not uncomfortably so, and it has some wiggle to it. She gasps when it enters her. When she's fully seated, the soft silicon ridge on the base is lined up perfectly to nestle between her labia.

“I can tell this is going to be _really_ fun,” she says.

“Psh, as if there was any doubt?” Shaw says. “This thing is _designed_ to make you have fun.”

Elizabeth shivers from excitement. “God, I'm so damn horny. Hurry up!”

Shaw opens the duffle bag and pulls out a coil of soft blue rope. Moving behind Elizabeth, she grabs her arms and pulls them behind her back, wrapping the rope around her wrists. She cinches the ropes tight, but not enough to constrict blood flow. Elizabeth wiggles her fingers.

“The usual safe words?” Shaw asks as she begins tying Elizabeth's elbows. “I think you're gonna need them today.”

Another pulse of excitement, a thrill running up her spine. “Yeah,” Elizabeth says. “Traffic lights.” Elizabeth shifts forward and backward, grinding gently against the silicon nubs on the base of the dildo. She feels delightfully full.

Shaw pushes Elizabeth's elbows as close together as they'll go—fortunately she's reasonably flexible—and ties them that way. Then she gets to work on Elizabeth's legs, which are spread on either side of the saddle. Shaw binds each ankle to the thigh, once again cinching the ropes carefully. The end result is Elizabeth rendered unable to unbend her legs or rise from the device.

Her heart is pounding like a drum.

“There,” Shaw says. “That should hold you nicely.” Shaw takes a step back and admires Elizabeth's bound form. She's completely helpless. The way her arms are bound forces her shoulders back, emphasizing her breasts. Shaw likes the effect. “Anything uncomfortable?”

“Nope.” Elizabeth wiggles her hands and feet. “It's pretty comfy. Nothing pinching.”

Shaw mockingly slaps her own forehead and says, “D'oh! I knew I was forgetting something.” She goes back to the bag, rummages around, and pulls out a pair of nipple clamps attached to a short silver chain. “These will help with that.”

“You've just been _dying_ for that opportunity to be ironic, haven't you?” Elizabeth says, rolling her eyes.

“I don't think irony is the right rhetorical device there,” Shaw says. She rubs one of Elizabeth's pebbled nipples between her forefinger and thumb and carefully applies the clamp. Elizabeth hisses at the biting sting, a mix of pain and pleasure. Shaw does the same to her other nipple and then jiggles the chain, evoking a choked moan from Elizabeth.

“There we go,” Shaw says. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah,” Elizabeth gasps.

“We'll start gentle,” Shaw says. She picks up the remote control. It's a simple, rugged control box with two knobs and a power switch. It looks more like it belongs to a piece of industrial equipment than a sex toy. Shaw clicks the switch, and the quiet _snap_ might as well have been a gunshot for all of Elizabeth's pent-up anticipation and excitement. A red power light glows.

“Hmmm,” Shaw says. She sits cross-legged in front of Elizabeth. “Let's try _this_ knob first.”

She holds the knob between her thumb and forefinger and twists it ever-so-slowly clockwise.

Elizabeth's breath hitches in her throat as the dildo begins to vibrate between her legs with a low, deep thrum, sending a feeling of warmth rushing throughout her body.

“Oh, wow,” she breathes. She tries spreading her legs to put more of her weight on the machine. The dildo and the base vibrate as one, spreading the sweet sensations over a much wider area than most of her other toys. “Oh, _wow_ ,” she laughs. “This is amazing.” She twists her hips and torso experimentally to see how much she can vary her contact with the machine, but the movement makes the chain between her nipples swing, yanking on the clamps and producing little sparks of pain and pleasure. The smoldering arousal between her legs has come to life and it spreads, tingling, throughout her body.

“It's barely even on,” Shaw says. “Interesting.”

“Really?”

Shaw turns the remote towards her. Elizabeth snorts when she sees the scale on the knobs; they go from one to ten, but Shaw had crossed out the ten on each one and written “11” instead. And Shaw says Elizabeth is a nerd...

But the knob on the left is barely at one.

“Holy cow,” Elizabeth says.

“Hmmmm,” Shaw says. She smirks, all feral-like, and locks eyes with Elizabeth as she twists the knob a little higher.

“ _Oh_!” Elizabeth gasps as the machine responds beneath her. The pleasure stemming from her nethers redoubles. “Oh-ho, wow...!” By instinct, she tries to raise herself off the dildo, but the ropes around her legs bind her tight. Elizabeth is only now realizing just how much she's at Shaw's mercy, especially since it looks like the knob isn't even a quarter way up from zero.

It's kinda scary, but at the same time, it's _really_ hot.

“W-what's the other knob do?” Elizabeth asks tentatively.

“Let's find out,” Shaw says, and she turns it.

Elizabeth wasn't prepared for the dildo to start _wiggling_ inside her, moving in tight little circles. She lets out a long moan and squeezes her eyes shut, reveling in the pleasure building within her body.

Shaw watches Elizabeth writhe and moan atop the Sybian. Her breasts jiggle and sway as she moves, the little silver chain swinging through the air. Her mouth is agape with pleasure and Shaw is getting _seriously_ turned on here. She's not the biggest fan of sex machines—too many moving parts, too much tight binding required to keep a sub safely in place, restricting her ability to _squirm_ —but she's willing to make an exception here. With Elizabeth tied the way she is, she has a wide range of movement in her upper body, but no matter how much she struggles, she's not going anywhere. And judging by the way Elizabeth's utterances are getting louder and more profane by the second, the machine is _really_ good at doing what it's supposed to do.

“Oh God,” Elizabeth breathes. “Oh, _fuck_...”

“You are _so_ fucking hot,” Shaw says. She scoots around Elizabeth and kneels behind her, nibbling on her shoulder. “I should've gotten this for you ages ago.”

“Hell yeah,” Elizabeth says. “This thing is _aah!_ ” She lets out a pained gasp as Shaw's fingers find one of the nipple clamps and tug gently on it.

“You sound like you're having a great time.” Shaw pulls the remote closer by its cord. She turns each of the knobs up a little bit and is rewarded by a loud moan from Elizabeth.

“I want you to count how many times you cum today,” Shaw whispers in her ear. “I'm not turning it off until you hit at _least_ twenty.”

“T-t- _twenty_?” Elizabeth gasps.

“Yep,” Shaw says. “C'mon, that's just about three orgasms for each day we've been making John and Finch miserable. You can do it.” Shaw's hands, as if gaining a mind of their own, roam down Elizabeth's front, rubbing her stomach and thighs. Her fingers quickly home in on Elizabeth's nethers. She draws a finger up Elizabeth's spread lips, raising an eyebrow at the strength of the vibrations from the buzzing dildo Elizabeth is sitting on.

This is officially Shaw's favorite new toy.

Elizabeth squeaks and squirms at Shaw's touch and the purring of the device between her legs. She's never felt anything so intense, not even from the powerful wand vibrators she favors. She tries to hold out, tries to fight against the pleasure soaring through her body, but it isn't long before she's at the precipice.

“ _Oh_ fuck,” she gasps. “I—I'm gonna—”

“Keep count,” Shaw reminds her as she fondles her breasts. “If you don't, I'll make you go longer.” She yanks on one of the clamps just as Elizabeth's arousal crosses the point of no return, and Elizabeth comes, blinded and deafened by the wave of arousal that engulfs her.

(She doesn't realize how loud she's moaning; the sound is the hottest thing Shaw had heard in _ages_.)

When Elizabeth becomes aware of herself again, she finds that the machine is still running strong, vibrating and gyrating relentlessly within her, and the sensations it's forcing from her body are frighteningly intense. She squirms, to no avail; the ropes hold tight.

“What's the count?” Shaw whispers from behind her.

“O-one,” Elizabeth gasps. “ _S-s-shii_ _i_ _t.”_

“Good girl.” She gives Elizabeth's breasts one last squeeze and comes around, kneeling in front of her again. Elizabeth's eyes are wide, the pupils dilated to the point where her eyes are almost entirely black.

“Still doing fine?” Shaw asks.

“Y-y-yeah,” Elizabeth gasps. “Holy—fuck—”

“Good,” Shaw purrs, and a second later, the pitch of the machine rises.

“ _Aaaah_!” Elizabeth yelps. “S-s-shaw! Turn it down!”

“No,” Shaw says. “You didn't even ask nicely.”

“Nnggggh you're so fucking _evil!_ ”

“Yep,” Shaw agrees. “I'm just going to sit here and watch you enjoy yourself for awhile. Don't forget to keep count.”

And that's what she does. She loves seeing Elizabeth struggle and writhe against the ropes, loves hearing her breathless gasps give way to obscenities and throaty, garbled moans that increase in volume as time goes on. (Shaw knows from experience that Elizabeth isn't in her subspace until she starts yelling. Hence why, after a few embarrassing incidents early on, none of the lofts have close neighbors.)

“F-f-fuck,” Elizabeth groans, staring down at the Sybian. “Oh, _fuck—”_ Her voice breaks and her eyes squeeze shut. Shaw recognizes the arched back, the splayed toes—Elizabeth just came again.

“T-t-two,” she gasps at Shaw.

“Only eighteen more to go,” Shaw says cheerfully.

(She's not actually going to make her go all eighteen, but Elizabeth doesn't need to know that right now.)

Elizabeth is occupying a very narrow stretch of subspace between heaven and hell. The pleasure being forced from her body is breathtakingly intense, almost but just barely shy of being downright painful. The nipple clamps sting like mad, a painful pleasure all of their own, and the ropes dig into her skin. If she hadn't been tied up, if she hadn't ceded her control to Shaw, she would've been done by now. Elizabeth likes it strong and hard, but this is a level of intensity she can't make herself handle alone—and yet, paradoxically, she craves such stimulation. By giving up nearly all of her control to Shaw, Elizabeth frees herself from making the choice to stop or slow down. She has no choice but to endure the pleasure until either Shaw gets bored or Elizabeth uses her safeword.

The third orgasm takes her to heights she's rarely experienced and the fourth is downright transcendent. Shaw doesn't give her a break. After the fourth one, she idly snags the remote by its cord and, as Elizabeth looks on, her eyes wide, Shaw turns each knob up another notch or two. It's too much, too strong, but at the same time, Elizabeth wants more, more, _more_. She's struggling almost continuously against the ropes, but there's no way she can break or loosen them. Her utterances have been reduced to little more than a continuous string of guttural syllables and moans, punctuated with the occasional mirror-rattling howl and a gasping, shouted number each time she comes.

She endures through several more orgasms, but after the seventh one in such a short period of time, it's just too much. The stimulation of the machine immediately post-orgasm sends her into a frenzy.

“ _Aaaaaah!_ ” Elizabeth cries. “ _Fuck_! Y-yellow! _Yellow_! Oh God, oh God—”

The reaction is immediate; Shaw grabs the remote and clicks off the power to the Sybian. She kneels down in front of Elizabeth.

“Hey,” Shaw says, cupping Elizabeth's face. “Talk to me. Hey. You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Elizabeth gasps. “Just—wow—holy fuck—”

“Breathe,” Shaw says. She carefully wipes away a tear from Elizabeth's eye and brushes a strand of hair away from her face. “Just take nice, deep breaths. We'll take a little break for now, okay?”

“Yeah,” Elizabeth pants. Once she gets control over her breathing, she manages a weak grin. “ _Jesus_ , this is one hell of a toy.”

“Worth the price tag?” Shaw asks.

“Hell yeah.”

Shaw takes advantage of the break to remove the nipple clamps, taking them off one at a time. Her fingers toy with Elizabeth's nipples as the blood rushes back into them. Elizabeth mews and squirms at Shaw's touch.

“Feeling ready for round two?” Shaw asks playfully. “Or stop for the day?”

“Round two in a few minutes,” Elizabeth says. “Just—turn it down a bit?”

“We'll take it slower,” Shaw says. She smirks. “You still owe me twelve orgasms—but we can take our time...”

#####

When John Reese sees Elizabeth the next day, she's much more cheerful. In fact, if he squints, he swears he can almost see her glowing.

“What's up, Batman?” she says as she swings into the passenger's seat, tossing her laptop bag carelessly onto the back seat.

“You seem happier today,” he notes casually.

“Amazing what an afternoon of debauchery can do for your mood,” she says, grinning cheekily. “You and Carter should try it sometime. What are we doing today?”

John's lips turn upward in a tiny smile as he pulls away from the curb. “Finch gave us another wifi network to crack,” he says. “A tax-prep place in Queens. After we hit their network, Finch will process the data and we'll do a little nosing around inside.”

“Sweet,” Elizabeth says. She scratches the back of her head. “Uh, by the way—sorry about two days ago. I really _was_ kinda grumpy.”

“No problem. And, for the record?” John's smile widens slightly. “Carter and I have a _very_ healthy love life. We're just not as, ah, open about it as you and Shaw...”

“Uh-huh,” Elizabeth says. “Suuuuure.”

“Speaking of, you two should really use that private line Finch set up.”

“But then we wouldn't get to make him deeply uncomfortable,” Elizabeth pouts. When John looks over at her in amusement, she adds, “What? Don't tell me you don't like doing it too.”

“Okay, from time to time, yeah,” John admits. “But Carter and I _mostly_ keep the dirty talk on our own line. It's not smart to annoy the eccentric billionaire that buys and trades massive software companies for fun, you know.”

“Right, sure.” Elizabeth doesn't sound convinced. “Anyway.” She stretches and settles back in her seat. “Let's go pick on somebody's poor insecure wireless router...”

#####

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and proofread this in a 20-hour timespan to make it for the smutfest, so there may be mistakes. If you let me know, I'll sneak in and fix them before anybody else notices :o
> 
> Written for Day 5 (sex machines) of the Oil Refinery smutfest, although if you read down the list, this story actually contains at least one theme from each of the five days!


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